


the feeling of hate

by cardans



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Book 2: The Wicked King, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Internal Monologue, Is that a thing, Kissing, Love/Hate, POV Jude Duarte, hate kisses, jude's just being jude, well more like enemies to make out buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardans/pseuds/cardans
Summary: Warmth spreads from her fingertips and into him as she trails them all over, down the softness of his neck and over the planes of his chest. This is hate, she thinks. This is what hate feels like. It feels like the need to lay a claim over every inch of someone because at least then you know what they’re doing. At least then you know that whatever actions they make are under your control.takes place sometime during the wicked king.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	the feeling of hate

**Author's Note:**

> found this buried deep in my files. it probably should've stayed there, but i like embarrassing myself, so here it is. hope you enjoy 600 words of jude trying to convince herself she hates cardan, as if miss holly black didn't already give us three whole books of that. nah, real talk, i hope you like it.

Jude knows what she’s said.

She’s said that she hates Cardan, hates him more than anything else in the world. Hates him so much that sometimes she can’t think about anything else. And yeah, that’s true. Or at least it was true, at some point.

She still gets that feeling sometimes. It overwhelms her, floods her system with the only feeling both faerie and humans feel the same way. It fills her mouth, makes her tongue feel heavy, makes her eyelids droop. It courses through her veins as she grabs Cardan by the chin, as she plants a kiss on his cheek, on the corner of his mouth, even on his fucking eyelid. Anywhere but his mouth. That almost feels too personal, as if planting kiss after kiss on the rest of him isn’t. But even with how personal it feels to her, Jude doesn’t think he feels the same way. Doesn’t even think he’d notice if she were to kiss his mouth. What’s another kiss by another girl? Nothing—that’s what it is. Absolutely nothing. The thought only infuriates her more. Her heart begins to beat faster as blood rushes to her face. Warmth spreads from her fingertips and into him as she trails them all over, down the softness of his neck and over the planes of his chest. This is hate, she thinks. This is what hate feels like. It feels like the need to lay a claim over every inch of someone because at least then you know what they’re doing. At least then you know that whatever actions they make are under your control.

Control. 

Her eyes flutter open as she looks over him. Her fingers are wrapped around his throat, loose enough not to be a threat. He looks up at her through half lidded eyes, like he’s drunk.  _ Kiss me until I’m sick of it,  _ he’d said, drunk and foolish. Jude wants to give him what he had asked for all of those nights ago. She knows she can. She knows she can kiss him for hours and hours without tiring. She knows that he’ll get bored of it far before she does. He’s Cardan. He’s a prince—no, he’s  _ High King.  _ There’s nothing he hasn’t felt before, nothing that Jude could possibly do to surprise him.

At least that’s what Jude thinks. Then her fingers tighten around his throat. His eyes open wider. His brows raise. He’s surprised, at least for a moment. Jude admires it for the second that it stays on his face. It’s replaced by a crooked half smile only moments after as Cardan raises his own hand, grabs her throat with it, like he’s some sort of mirror reflecting. She looks at him for a moment, looks into his eyes. The hate burns brighter in her throat. She lurches forward with a sudden urgency, mouth finally pressed against his. She can feel him release the breath he’s holding as his hand goes to her hair. It tangles around his fingers as he climbs it higher and higher, only stopping once his knuckles are pressed flush to her scalp. There’s a bite of pain that comes with his touch. It’s the best kind, the kind that reminds Jude of why she’s so entranced with Cardan. It’s because he can make her feel how others can’t. He can make her heart thump and her blood boil all in the same breath, all because he’s Cardan and she’s Jude and they were made to hate each other. If they weren’t made to hate each other than what else were they meant for? Love? To love each other, until death do them part, like the silly mortals did?

Jude pulls back for a breath. Cardan follows her movements like he’s hungry, eyes still closed from their kiss.

Love. Hate. It’s such a fine line. It’s only after Jude goes in for another round of hungry, cruel kisses that she realizes she no longer knows which side of the line she falls on anymore.


End file.
